Introspection
by liseli
Summary: They expect me to just do what’s right—regardless of how I feel—and just save them all!” There was a pause. “How do you know whose side is right and who's is wrong?” She asked. Harry was quite taken aback; he had never thought about that before...
1. the Beginning

Disclaimer: I disclaim everything but the plot. (and there is a vague one, I promise; but I'm still working on it.) JKR owns all.  
  
Okay, restarting this story for the 3rd time...  
  
A/N this is a revision of a revision of a revision—just to let you know, but hopefully this is the last time. Be sure to give me 50 lashes with a wet noodle if I do it again.

Also, i think this chapter is best read while lestening to Mascott's "Song from a dream" which you can hear at launch.com if you're logged into a Yahoo account. I sound like a commercial, huh?

**The Beginning**  
  
"Harry, dinner is ready!" Came a sickeningly sweet voice from downstairs, not unlike that of Harry's former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dolores Umbridge. However, the voice coming from the kitchen was his Aunt Petunia's. She and the rest of the Dursleys had adopted a similar voice since they left the train station, where Harry's guard had threatened them into treating him properly.  
  
Harry just ignored his aunt's call. He wasn't hungry. He was never hungry anymore; the sinking feeling of guilt and the searing pain of grief he felt constantly didn't allow him to feel much else.  
  
Harry was sitting at his desk, trying to work on his summer homework, but finding it hard to concentrate. Aggravated, he leaned back in his chair to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was 6:34. He had been working on the same transfiguration essay for a little over two hours and hadn't gotten past the first paragraph. Fed up, he put his quill down and looked out the window. His eyes unfocused....  
  
A little filmstrip began to play on the backs of his eyelids. It was Sirius and Bellatrix. They were in the Department of Mysteries, dueling again. It happened in his mind exactly as it had happened in real life, but Harry found himself hoping that it would end differently this time; that Sirius would make it....  
  
Bellatrix cast the spell, and Sirius began to fall backwards in slow motion towards the Veil. If only he could regain his balance, or push himself away...  
  
It ended as it always did in his memory—as in reality.  
  
"No!" Harry said.  
  
"No!" He whispered. "No, no, no..." He banged his head softly on the desk.  
  
His memories were more real to him than anything. He could see veil and the dais and Sirius more clearly than the four walls closing in on him. He could feel the cold stone beneath his feet, his soul tearing away at the edges of his skin because his body couldn't move fast enough to break his godfather's fall. The voices and spells were louder than the screaming silence around him. He could even smell the dampness of the dungeon.... The memories, clouding his thoughts, his senses; haunting him...  
  
Slowly, he wiped his face with his sleeve, stood up, and left the room.  
  
"Leaving." He said to the Dursleys as he passed the dining room without stopping, and slammed the door behind him.  
  
He began to run. Harry had been running quite a bit for the past two weeks; in fact, ever since he got back from Hogwarts. As soon as he reached Privet Drive, he began running, and wouldn't have stopped if it weren't for the Order members trailing him. It was quite funny at first to hear them pant as they tried to keep up. At one point, Mundungus Fletcher actually asked him to stop so he could regain his breath.  
  
Now, however, whoever was following Harry had cast some sort of spell, and there was no sound of heavy breathing or footsteps falling. Apart from vaguely wondering who was trailing him, he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts...  
  
It was happening again. The filmstrip began to play, the images just as clear as when they actually happened.  
  
Sirius was falling...  
  
Harry began to run faster; the sucking feeling that formed in his lungs as he ran somehow helped to lessen the intense pain of the hole in his heart.  
  
Sirius was falling slower than ever...  
  
Harry ran faster still.  
  
Sirius fell though the curtain, and Harry hit the ground with a thud—he had run so fast that he had fallen over. He lay there for a minute, smelling the grass, gasping for breath, when he felt a hand on his back. For a moment, he had a flashback to his fourth year, bringing Cedric's body back.  
  
_Sirius didn't have a body to bring back..._  
  
"Harry?" He heard a voice say. It was Lupin. Harry turned over. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry said in the direction he assumed Lupin to be. "I'm fine." He got up slowly, brushed the gravel from his elbows and face, and began to walk towards the park.  
  
"Have you eaten anything today?" Lupin asked from behind.  
  
"Yeah." Harry lied. There was a tense pause, in which he could tell Lupin was trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. Harry did his best to look full, and Lupin said no more.  
  
Harry reached the park. The streetlight flickered over the disheveled swing set; all but one had been trashed by Dudley's gang last summer. Actually, Harry thought as he sat down on it, Dudley seemed quite subdued this summer. The worst he and his little crowd had done was smoke cigarettes in the alleyways then right nasty things on the walls with their ashes. He had seen "F u Harry Potter" on more than one wall, and didn't doubt that it had something to do with their encounter with the Dementors last summer.  
  
All of the sudden Harry felt a wave of guilt at having been thinking about such petty things as his cousin's little gang; his godfather had just died...  
  
_If I hadn't been such an arrogant little git and trusted those stupid dreams..._  
  
He kicked into the dirt as had as he could. He felt as if he needed to break something, tear it to shreds, rip it to pieces.... He curled his hands into fists, clenched his teeth, trying with all his might not to "do anything rash."  
  
Standing, he picked up the swing and threw it as hard as he could over the top bar of the set. There was a small crack; the last swing was broken.  
  
Breathing in deeply, Harry sat down on the merry-go-round. He didn't like them very much ever since Dudley spun him so hard he got sick and then fell off when they were little.  
  
Now, however, he didn't care.  
  
He kicked hard into the ground again, and the merry-go-round began to turn. Harry kept kicking and kicking and the merry-go-round kept turning and turning, faster and faster until he could feel the centrifugal forces trying to pull him off. Harry closed his eyes.  
  
It was all too much to take. Everything that had happened ever since he entered that maze—since he began Hogwarts, really—no-one should have to go through that.  
  
_If it weren't for that stupid, damned, God-forsaken prophecy...  
_  
Actually, if he wanted to get down to it _all_, that was the reason for everything. If he _really_ got down to it, Sirius didn't die because of his stupidity; he died because of the prophecy, just like his parents, just like Cedric....  
  
It was because of that damned prophecy he had no parents, no Sirius, no real home, no real life...  
  
_It did give me something; this scar. But like anyone would want that...  
_  
Harry scowled and looked down at his shoes; at his fingers playing with the laces. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see the world whirling by him...  
  
Harry walked back to the Dursley's slowly and dizzily, not wanting to return. Sure, they didn't bother him with chores or shout at the sight of him, but somehow having the room cleared every time he entered one seemed worse. It made him feel as if he didn't exist.  
  
He hadn't spoken directly to his relatives—or anyone really—since he returned form Hogwarts. It was always just a call to dinner or a sentence or two in the general direction of an Order member, as had happened earlier, but never anything more than that. No real conversation. Nothing to stabilize his sanity, bring him back down to earth.  
  
His feet became increasingly interesting. Going without telling him so. Taking him to places he didn't want togo. Moving, moving, moving. Stepping, stepping, stepping. Leaving, leaving, leaving things behind.  
  
"Bye." He said to the invisible Lupin as he reached the ill-lighted doorstep of Privet Drive.  
  
"Bye." Lupin whispered, and Harry went through the door.  
  
The Dursleys were in the living room, watching the eight o'clock news, his Uncle Vernon making loud comments about the new law banning smoking in pubs. "They'll ban drinking in pubs before too long! These new-age activists, messing with tradition..."  
  
Feeling slightly guilty about having lied to Lupin, Harry went into the kitchen and took down a slice of sandwich bread. Upon eating it, he realized that he actually was hungry, so he made a sandwich with some of the ham leftovers from his relatives' dinner.  
  
He thought for a moment, nibbling on his dinner, about joining the Dursleys in the family room to watch the news; they would just get up and leave—claim they had to brush their teeth or something. The thought was actually quite appealing. Ron and Hermione had told him in their last letters (and there had been quite a few of them already) that a lot of things had been happening lately, and not just to the magical world; the muggles had been taking notice too. Having canceled his subscription to the Daily Prophet, the muggle news was Harry's only resource; his friends weren't too specific in their letters.  
  
He was right. As soon as he entered the room, Uncle Vernon's face turned read, Dudley looked as if he was trying to sink into himself and disappear, and Aunt Petunia's lips thinned. But before anyone had to endure too much of this torture, all three of the Dursleys decided to go wash the dishes, and Harry was left in peace to watch the news.  
  
There was a report about an armed robbery of the local courthouse and another of a serial killer on the loose before, "A third fire with a mysterious skull and snake floating above it occurred in Bath late last night. The fires, which only began appearing about a week ago, have officials scratching their heads.  
  
"The fires seem intentional, and investigations of arson are underway, but the symbol floating above each is completely inexplicable. No-one seems to know how it is projected or what it means.  
  
"Reporter Dana Turnmount recently spoke to Dr. Howard Martin, professor of physics at Oxford University, about how the symbol is made."  
  
'It seems to defy logic. It is said to be translucent, but it is uninterrupted by other objects that might deflect it, so the possibility of it being a projection—our only hypothesis so far—is ruled out. However, my colleagues and I are conducting further research, in hopes of not only solving this perplexing mystery, but finding potential clues to the identity of the criminal.'  
  
"The death count has now reached 11," continued the newscaster, "but just as strangely, none of the victims' neighbors seem to remember anything about the incident. Consequently, we have no footage of these strange and villainous occurrences.  
  
"Citizens are advised to start a neighborhood watch and to be wary of wandering strangers. If you have any information on this, please call..."  
  
Harry sat there for a moment staring at the television, not taking in a word. He had been expecting Lord Voldemort to act for over a year now, but now that he had, Harry found that he wasn't quite ready. Sure, he had 'battled' with him several times before, but an actual war had always seemed like something of the distant future. But it was here. It was now. It was _happening_.

A/N Thanks to my first reviewer Jo0608! the next chapter _should_ be up before then, but i learned long ago not to make promises like that.

Could someone please tell me what year Alicia spennet, katie bell, and angelina johnson were in in the 5th book?

you pick: longer chapters or faster updates?

Now finally, please review!


	2. Close to Home

Close to Home  
  
The sun struggled to shine through the clouds that morning and the wind was chilly from blowing through the rain in the distance. None of the inhabitants of Privet Drive showed any signs of venturing outside their houses, even though it was ten o'clock on a Saturday. The day had all the markings of being a nasty one. For Harry, this meant bliss.  
  
He could run all he wanted—free from the neighbors' strange looks—and sit on the merry-go-round with out little kids shouting at him to get off; that it was their turn. No-one was out, and that was just how Harry liked it.  
  
He ran past the park but did not stop; the cold air hitting his sweaty face was somehow too refreshing. It was a wonderful morning for Harry, and so far he hadn't even thought about his godfather...  
  
"I will _not _think about that right now..." He said to himself under his breath. Not right now...  
  
_What, are you trying to forget him?_ Said a voice in the back of his mind.  
  
_No, I just..._  
  
Sirius was falling...  
  
_Not right now...  
_  
Harry looked down at his feet again and began counting his steps in hopes of distracting himself.  
  
_One, _

_Two, _

_Three, _

_Four, _

_Five, _

_Six..._  
  
He was in the Department of Mysteries...  
  
It was no use. The memories would not leave him, and he could almost feel himself being sucked down into the depths of his consciousness....

Several hours later, Harry was lying wet on the bar atop the swing set, watching the grass grow below in the dim light of the setting sun. Suddenly, a movement at the street corner caught his eye. It was a tabby cat with white squares around its eyes, a cat he hadn't seen in over three years; Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Profes—"Harry began, but was cut off by a shake of the cat's head.  
  
"Not right now." She seemed to be saying.  
  
Though aggravated, he obeyed and turned over to watch the stars move this time.  
  
An orange glow erupted above a house in the distance, followed by a bloodcurdling scream. Harry stood up quickly, balancing himself precariously on the wet bar of the swing set. But what he saw made him fall off.  
  
Mrs. Figg, along with several of her cats, were floating above the flames of her house, which was surrounded by Death Eaters. It was almost the exact same scene from the World Quidditch Cup...  
  
From the ground, Harry saw the Dark Mark slowly rising in the night sky.  
  
Professor McGonagall was streaking down the wall of the house, from whose roof she had just been watching the scene on Magnolia Crescent. She jumped halfway down the latticework, and just as she hit the ground, turned into her human form. It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, she needed a cane.  
  
"Potter, hurry! Follow me." She said as she began to run down the street, surprisingly well for being so old. Harry got up, but with some difficulty; he had bruised his back from the fall.  
  
Hoping that wherever they were going, it wasn't far, as the wind had been knocked out of him—also by the fall—he followed his Professor.  
  
"Mr. Potter, I must insist that you move more quickly!" She said in an aggravated tone as she turned around, but, to Harry's dismay, kept running all the same.  
  
"I...can't...breathe!" He managed to gasp, but she took no notice.  
  
McGonagall turned onto Privet Drive, which surprised Harry. With much effort, he caught up to her and asked, "Why aren't we going to Mrs. Figg's house?"  
  
She looked at him as if he was out of his mind. "No indeed! The Order and the Ministry will be there any moment now, and I have to get you out of here! Do you really want those Death Eaters to see you?!"  
  
"Maybe I do..." He mumbled angrily, but again, she took no notice. _If Lestrange is there_... But Harry just followed his professor, _like a good little boy..._  
  
They reached number four. McGonagall was just about to tear the door open, when Aunt Petunia beat her to it. Undoubtedly, she had seen the Mark while "washing the dishes,"—her usual cover-up for spying on the neighbors—and was going to see for herself.  
  
"Who are you?" Uncle Vernon said bluntly, pushing his wife aside, who was standing frozen in the doorway, and odd expression of confusion and thoughtfulness.  
  
"I," Professor McGonagall said, obviously annoyed by the untimely question, "am Professor Minerva McGonagall, of Hogwarts, and we need to leave, now." She took her wand out of her pocket, at the sight of which Dudley paled considerably and he let out a small "yelp."  
  
She ignored him, like she had Harry, pointed her wand at the nearest flowerpot, and muttered "portus." The pot shook violently and glowed blue for a moment. Harry could see the look of disapproval on his aunt's face.  
  
"Why?" Harry's uncle asked, his face reddening. "Why should we leave, with—with you?"  
  
"Mr. Dursley, can't you see the fire over there?" McGonagall asked, pointing to the fire in the distance, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking with outrage. "The symbol?"  
  
"I DO AND I BELIEVE I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF PROTECTING MY OWN FAMILY!" He said, now shouting.  
  
"WELL, DURSLEY, QUITE FRANKLY, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF YOU DIE, BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU, YOU WILL IF YOU STAY HERE, AND THE HEADMASTER FOR SOME REASON SEEMS TO THINK YOU ARE WORTH KEEPING ALIVE! So, take hold of this, NOW!" She said, thrusting the flowerpot at them. "You too, Harry."  
  
Harry put a finger on it, as did the Dursleys, though rather hesitantly. Their eyes widened with horror as they were lifted off the ground. The look did not fade when they arrived in, of all places, King's Cross. No-one seemed to notice their arrival, and Harry wondered for a moment if McGonagall was taking them to Hogwarts. This suspicion was immediately deterred when Mr. Weasley, Snape, and Mundungus appeared beside them, and Professor McGonagall began making another portkey, this time with a nearby forgotten magazine.  
  
"Severus, Arthur, you will stay here with the Dursleys until further notice. Do your best to blend in." She said, eyeing their robes, which were now attracting attention amongst the mobs of late commuters and travelers. Mr. Weasley seemed to be on the edge of his non-existent seat, trying to contain his excitement at being chosen to stay with the muggles.  
  
"Mundungus, you will escort Mr. Potter with myself to another location from which to depart." She said, tackling the matter with military-like efficiency. "You know what to do if something goes happens." With a nod from each of them, they left the wizards and the Dursleys, who still looked completely baffled.  
  
They had walked nearly two blocks from the train station before the professor was satisfied that they were far away enough to use the portkey.  
  
"We don't want to attract to much attention by using too much magic in one place." She had said, and Harry was pretty sure she wasn't talking about causing a scene with the muggles.  
  
They stood under the somewhat-shielded awning of a corner store, which had already closed for the night, and grabbed hold of the magazine.  
  
A/N: Thanks to Miss Piratess! You really would not believe how happy your review made me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks, too, for answering my questions!  
  
And, I've decided to leave "deceased telltale" up, because, as I was reading through it, I found it was actually pretty good, writing-wise—much better than I thought. Plotwise, it was pretty poor; I really didn't have a firm grasp on it. I let it grow as it wanted, and thus, there was no structure.  
  
I didn't even get to edit this chapter; I just wanted to get it up before I left for 3 weeks, so, you know.... I won't be updating for a while ( sorry! But go read "Acquainted with the Night"" by hilarity, "I'd kill you if you weren't already dead" by miss pirates and ""Harry potter and the wands of invention" by sarily! They're the best fics I've ever read! (no lie)  
  
-liseli


	3. Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Again

Happy 4th to all you Americans!! And if your not an American, hope you have a good day anyway.

**Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Again  
**  
There was the familiar jerking sensation before they arrived, of all places, outside number 12, Grimmauld Place.  
  
Harry couldn't really say that he was surprised at the destination—where else would they've taken him—but now that he was here, he wasn't quite sure of what to think.  
  
Before he had time to really try though, he was ushered inside. The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was in absolute tumult; people were coming and leaving, unlocking and locking the front door (which was quite a feat), talking, walking, casting spells, and just causing quite an uproar altogether. Not to mention, the portrait of Sirius's mum was screaming as shrilly as ever.

_Sirius...  
_  
"Go into the kitchen, Harry. Molly should be down there—you look absolutely starved." Professor McGonagall said before being taken aside by a witch Harry didn't recognize. Mundungus had just disappeared altogether.  
  
"Oh, Harry dear! We've been so worried! All we knew was that Death Eaters were in your neighborhood! Are you okay?" Mrs. Weasley said, all in one breath, as soon as he entered the room. After being pulled into a giant hug, she stood back to look at him. "My goodness! You're thinner than I've ever seen you! Have those relatives of yours been feeding you?"  
  
"Yeah..." Harry mumbled—they were feeding him; he just chose not to eat. In no time, she had pulled out several pots and pans and began cooking.  
  
"My God, Harry. You look terrible." Said Ron, who had just come down the stairs.  
  
"Nice to see you too." He said in reply. He was not in the best mood all of the sudden.  
  
"Sorry, it's just you do. You're really pale..."  
  
Choosing to ignore him for the moment, Harry sat down, just as Mrs. Weasley set a humongous plate of food in front of him. Ron went up to fix a plate for himself, but his mother slapped him on the hand.  
  
"You've already had dinner, Ronald."  
  
"But Mum, I'm hungry!"  
  
"I don't know why; you had thirds! And besides, breakfast is only a few hours away."  
  
"A few hours? More like eight!" Ron mumbled exasperatedly as he sat down next to Harry. "So, how's your summer been?" He asked, looking longingly at his friend's large plate.  
  
"Great." Harry said flatly, jabbing his fork into a link of sausage.  
  
"How were the relatives?" Ron asked, not noticing Harry's aggravation.  
  
"Peachy. Absolutely chum." He spat. How could Ron be so ignorant? Didn't he realize that Sirius, Harry's godfather, had just died, not even a month ago? Didn't he care? "I'm going to bed." He said, slamming his fork down, sausage still on it. "'Night." And with that, he stood up and left, not having eaten anything.  
  
He arrived in the room where he and Ron had stayed last summer. Everything seemed to be just as they left it, and Phineas' empty portrait still hung above his bed.  
  
_They _still_ don't trust me any further than they can see me.  
_  
Realizing that he had left his trunk and the rest of his belongings at the Dursley's, Harry threw his shoes off and flopped into bed. He might worry about his trunk tomorrow. Or today. Or when ever the hell he got around to it. Might.  
  
Ron came in a few minutes later, and Harry pretended to be asleep. He heard the rustling of a Chocolate Frog wrapper and very loud chewing, obviously from Ron. Annoyed, he pulled the covers further over his head, but his friend seemed to take no notice.  
  
Before long, snores could be heard coming from the other bed, but Harry could not get to sleep. The memories kept coming back to him...  
  
Bellatrix cast the spell and—Harry stood up abruptly before he let the images go further. He stepped quietly out the bedroom door, as to not wake Ron.  
  
_Though I doubt the Whomping Willow could wake hi just now.  
_

Harry snuck down the hallway to the banister overlooking the entrance. Mrs. Weasley was sitting on one of the benches alone, looking expectantly at the door. She was wringing her hands.  
  
He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. He supposed that the appropriate thing to do was to go down and comfort her. She had always done the same for him....  
  
He tip-toed down the stairs somewhat reluctantly; what was he supposed to do? He had never been very good at that sort of thing.  
  
Just then, the front door opened, and in stepped Moody, Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley, Mr. Weasley, Bill, and several other members of the Order Harry didn't recognize.  
  
Mrs. Weasley rushed over to her son and husband, pulling them into a tight hug. "I got so worried when you didn't come back right away!" Harry heard, even from three flights up.  
  
"I went back to help at Arabella's house." Mr. Weasley said.  
  
"How is she?" She asked worriedly.  
  
"Not too well..." Bill said.  
  
Harry turned around and went back up the stairs, feeling lonelier than before.  
  
When he finally woke up, Ron was gone and the sun had long been up. He looked down at his watch. It was 1:46 PM. Someone had brought his luggage from the Dursley's and Mrs. Weasley had left a rather large sandwich on his bedside table.  
  
Harry pulled on a different pair of clothes from his trunk and, picking up the sandwich, left the room. Taking one of the back staircases so as to not meet up with anyone, he went to Buckbeak's room.  
  
"Hey there boy." He said as he petted the hippogriff. Buckbeak stomped his hoof and squawked in reply. "No-one has come to see you, have they?" Harry said as he sat down on the bed and took a bite of his sandwich. He still didn't really have an appetite, but Buckbeak, on the other hand, was looking longingly at it.  
  
"Here." He said, tossing the sandwich toward him. "I didn't want it anyway."  
  
Buckbeak snapped his beak in thanks and downed the sandwich in one gulp.

Several hours later there was a knocking on the door. Harry lay still, unsure of whether or not he wanted any company—besides Buckbeak, that is.  
  
Whoever it was knocked once more before just coming in. It was Ron.  
  
"Hey mate, Mum says dinner is ready." He said as he craned his neck to see around the curtains of the bed, which Harry had pulled to.  
  
Harry didn't reply.  
  
"Damn, he sleeps a lot." Ron said to himself. Harry did his best to repress a snort; last night was the first time he had slept in ages.  
  
Ron left the room, but it wasn't long before someone else entered it, this time, Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Harry heard the soft chink of glass on wood; presumably his dinner. Then she walked over to the side of the bed, and took off his glasses for him. "Poor dear..." She whispered. "He's been through so much."  
  
_You've got that right.  
_  
She stood there for a few moments more, and Harry could've sworn he heard her sniffle.

Later that evening, Harry was wandering around the back passages of the house, for lack of anything better to do (he still didn't really feel like having contact with anyone), when he heard voices coming from a door a few paces up.  
  
"...According to Remus, he has eaten hardly anything since summer began!" It was Mrs. Weasley. "All he would do was run all day, but here he just sleeps! I'm worried about him, Arthur. He's taking this even worse then I expected." Harry knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but what did she think he was taking so badly? Had Dumbledore told the Weasleys about the prophecy?  
  
Harry put his ear to the door.  
  
"I know Molly, I know. We're all worried about him. He's just not acting like himself, I know. But think, how did you react when you lost your godfather?" Said Mr. Weasley knowingly.  
  
Harry let out a sigh of relief. They were talking about Sirius' death. He was about to leave, but Mrs. Weasley's next sentence caught his attention.  
  
"I was never very close to Derrick Avery, at least not once the war began." She replied rather coldly.  
  
_Wasn't Avery a Death Eater?_  
  
"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten about that..." Mr. Weasley said lightly. "What about when your father...died? Sirius was the closest thing to a father Harry ever had."  
  
Mrs. Weasley sniffled and there was a pause. "I—I cried for days and refused to leave my room..."  
  
Another pause, then: "I think you and Harry have more in common than you realize." Mr. Weasley said so softly that Harry had to strain to hear.  
  
"But Harry's just a boy! I had a family to grow up with, and when I lost them, I had you, Arthur! It's just not fair for him; he's so young!"  
  
Harry was quite taken aback. He had no idea Mrs. Weasley had lost her family, too. Actually, he had never really thought of her having a family outside of Mr. Weasley and their children.

"I think he has proven on more than one occasion that he is no longer a child, Molly." Mr. Weasley said softly.  
  
"I just...I wish there was something I could do for him..." She mumbled.  
  
"Hey mate! You're awake!" Said a voice behind Harry. It was Ron.  
  
A/N Yeah, okay so nothing really happened in this chapter, except the beginning of Harry's nocturnal tendencies, which I just think is interesting—there isn't much of a point to it. I don't like this chapter much myself, either. But, I do owe you a chapter after being away at summer camp for three weeks. I've been home for a week already, and I'm just getting around to updating! I really am sorry about that! No excuse, no excuse... shakes head

Next chapter will be under another title, but i'm not sure what just yet. Sorry about all the changes as far as that goes! Oh, and get your wet noodles out and ready, because i've revised chapters one _and_ two. Cringes at the inevitable flogging

One last thing, with all the Molly in this chappie, it may seem a bit er...slashy, but it's not, I swear. It was just important to show her as a motherly figure, and Harry's loneliness.

Well, anyway, I think you should all go and read my profile to see if you can find any subliminal messages, then obey them...lol  
  
-Liseli


	4. Candidates

A/N Sorry about 'disturbing' you, Miss Piratess! lol I'm almost paranoid about stepping on toes (including my own), that's all!  
  
One last thing before I begin: time has passed (story-wise) since the last chapter. A little less than one month has passed, during which Harry pretty much stayed away from people in general, incase you were wondering.  
  
**Candidates**

"Hey, Harry!" Said Ron as he shook Harry awake. "Harry, wake up!"  
  
"What is it?" He asked angrily; he had only just fallen asleep.  
  
"Our school letters are in!"  
  
"Wha..." _O.W.L.s are in the school letters!_ Harry had forgotten all about them. He jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers.  
  
"C'mon, let's go!" Ron shouted as Harry fumbled with his belt buckle, trying to get it tight enough to keep his pants from falling off. "Mum wouldn't let me open mine until I got you up."  
  
"Okay, okay! I'm coming!"  
  
Harry had to hitch up his pants again before walking into the kitchen, where half of the Weasley family and various members of the Order were assembled.  
  
Ron nearly knocked Mundungus out of his chair as he skirted the table and snatched the letter out of his mother's hand. "Watch it, Ron!" Mundungus mumbled. "Why are you so excited, anyway? They're just your O.W.L.s...."  
  
Ron ignored him and began tearing it open.  
  
"Here are yours, Harry dear." Mrs. Weasley said as she took a letter out of her apron pocket and put it in Harry's hand.  
  
"Thanks." He said, and sat down between Remus and Tonks. He had just begun to open his letter when—  
  
"YES!!!!!" Ron shouted from across the room. "YES! YES! YES! I've made it! I've made it!!!!" He was literally dancing.  
  
"Did you really do that well dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, brightening up at the prospect of Ron getting good—great by the sound of it—grades.  
  
"What?" Ron asked, pulling Ginny into what was apparently a very tight hug, much to her obvious dismay.  
  
"Your O.W.L.s! How did you do?" She asked.  
  
"What? Oh, I dunno. But I made it! I made it, I made it, I made it!!"  
  
"Made what, Ron?" Mr. Weasley asked.  
  
"QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN!!!!!"  
  
The egg fell off of Remus' fork.  
  
"You what?" Asked Harry, his letter completely forgotten.  
  
"I'm captain!" Ron said. "You see, I heard Angelina and Katie talking one day at Fred and George's shop, and Angelina was telling Katie that she thought McGonagall would appoint her captain. But Katie had already thought about that, and she told McGonagall that she didn't want to be! Wanted to focus on her N.E.W.T.s or something—I don't know. And, anyway, I knew it had to be either you or me, mate, because we're pretty much the only ones left on the team!" He said, all in one breath.  
  
"Hey!" Said Ginny from across the room.  
  
"Well, you too. But McGonagall is bound to give Harry his position back, and Sloper and Kirke are both worth—"  
  
"Ronald!"  
  
"Anyway, I made it!" Ron finished, positively , mate." Said Harry, trying to look happy for his best friend.  
  
How could Ron be appointed captain?! He had only been on the team for a year, and hadn't done very well, for that matter. Well, he did win the Cup, but that was only one game...  
  
Did Harry's ban have anything to do with it?  
  
No, McGonagall had fought against Umbridge on that one. Surely she wouldn't see Harry any lower because of _that_....  
  
He was about to begin eating his breakfast, when Lupin reminded him that he had a letter, too.  
  
"Aren't you going to open it?" He asked.  
  
Harry put down his fork and began to slowly tear away at the envelope.  
  
_Dear Mr. Potter, Enclosed are your Ordinary Wizarding Level (O.W.L.) Examination results and your supply list for the following year. You are reminded that the term begins on the first of September, and the train leaves from Platform 9 ¾ of King's Cross Station at 11 A.M.  
  
Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall  
  
P.S. Your lifetime Quidditch ban has been lifted. Your position as seeker for the Gryffindor house team has been restored.  
_  
_Signed,  
  
Minerva McGonagall_  
  
Ron was right; he was seeker again. Harry pulled out another sheet of paper from the envelope.  
  
_Here are the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Level (O.W.L.) Examinations.  
  
History of Magic: Dreadful  
  
Charms: Exceeds Expectations  
  
Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations  
  
Potions: Outstanding  
  
Astronomy: Poor  
  
Herbology: Acceptable  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding  
  
Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding  
  
Divination: Dreadful  
  
Please note: The Board of Magical Education acknowledges that there was a disturbance during your practical Astronomy examination. Your test has been graded accordingly.  
  
Congratulations! You have received a total of six O.W.L.s!  
_  
"How did you do?" Lupin asked.  
  
"I got six." He said as he pulled out the supply list.  
  
"That's great Harry!" Lupin said.  
  
"Yes, that's wonderful dear." Mrs. Weasley commented as she began to clear the table. Harry was about to hand her his plate, but she told him to keep eating.  
  
"No, no. You're sitting here until you clear your plate; your bones are showing!" She said, and slapped Ron's hand when he got up for thirds.  
  
"Mum!" He whined.  
  
"Really, if I let you eat as much as you'd like to, not only would you eat us out of house and home, but you'd be as _big_ as the house!"  
  
Harry put a fork of eggs into his mouth and began reading over the supply list.  
  
"So Ron, how _did_ you do?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Ron pulled out the rest of the contents of his letter.  
  
"Lupin, look at this." Harry said, pointing to his list.  
  
"_Advanced Divination: An In-Depth Look Into the Beyond_ by Cassandra Trelawney." He read aloud. "What about it?"  
  
"I got a 'D' in Divination."  
  
"It's probably just a mistake. You can ask Minerva tonight."  
  
"I got one, two, three...four, five. Five O.W.L.s." Ron said from across the room.  
  
"That's lovely, dear." Mrs. Weasley said. "We'll go to Diagon Alley after Harry finishes his breakfast. You both need new robes."  
  
"Great!" Ron said, sitting down next to Harry. "You'll get to see Fred and George's shop, and I can tell them I've made captain!"  
  
"Yeah." Harry said, stirring his fork around in his eggs. "That'll be great."  
  
"So hey, how'd you do?"  
  
"Six." He replied, as they exchanging results. Harry scanned the parchment. They would have all the same classes, save potions, assuming that divination was a mistake.  
  
"How'd you manage to get an 'O' in potions!?"  
  
"I dunno... how'd you get an 'E'?"  
  
"Maybe it is just Snape!" Ron said with a look of anger and realization on his face. "Well, sorry mate. Looks like you're stuck with him again next year." He finished, this time with a look of sympathy.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Have you got your lists?" Mrs. Weasley asked Harry and Ron fifteen minutes later as they stood beside the door with Moody, Tonks and Lupin. The two boys nodded.  
  
"Well, good. Let's go." She said, and began unlocking the door.  
  
"Oh, hey Mum. I forgot to tell you; Hermione owled this morning to say that she'd meet us at Diagon Alley to stay for the rest of the holidays." Ron said, very nonchalantly as they were walking down the pavement outside of number 12. Mrs. Weasley rounded on him.  
  
"And you're just telling me _now_?!"  
  
"Well, I'm sorry..." He mumbled. Mrs. Weasley began to walk a little faster, muttering something about inconsiderateness, and Harry was strongly reminded of Hermione.  
  
"What are all the posters for?" Harry asked as they stepped through the opening in the wall and into Diagon Alley. Every shop and building was plastered in purple and silver posters.  
  
"Didn't you hear? Fudge has been impeached." Tonks said as she picked up the owl cage she had just knocked down. Harry shook his head.  
  
"Well, it would be a little hard to hear about anything if you're sleeping all day." Moody commented in his gruff voice.  
  
"Yes, well, since Fudge has been fired, we have to elect a new minister." Mrs. Weasley said as they turned the corner, coming into view of Gringott's.  
  
As they got closer, Harry could see they said "VOTE!" in large letters and held a picture of one of two were men on them—Gilbert Wimple and Oscar Macmillan.  
  
Wimple had a rather prominent hooked nose and very large eyebrows, giving him the appearance of a feathery hawk. Macmillan, on the other hand, had a somewhat pudgy nose, a square jaw, and light-colored hair parted perfectly down the center. Harry thought he looked vaguely familiar...  
  
"Is that Ernie Macmillan's—" Harry asked, pointing to one of the posters.  
  
"Dad? Yeah." Ron replied.  
  
"That explains a lot...." Harry muttered. Ron laughed.  
  
"Oscar has been trying to move up for ages—he's on the Wizengamot just now—and there's really nowhere else to go." Lupin commented.  
  
"What about the other one, Wimple?" Harry asked.  
  
"Old Wimple is just after titles; the higher your position, the better the retirement, which is the only reason he hasn't yet; he's plenty old enough." Said Mrs. Weasley as they entered the bank. "Now, come on Harry, take out your key."  
  
"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione asked from the bottom of the stairwell.  
  
"Err... I dunno. Somewhere?" That was a lie. Harry was going to Buckbeak's room, but he knew that if Hermione found his hiding place she wouldn't leave him alone, and to be alone was something he wanted very much.  
  
Hermione looked up at him with concern. Harry could tell she was about to say something that was supposed to be 'comforting.' But she let the silence hang for a few moments more, and he turned around.  
  
"Look, Harry, I know—" She began, causing Harry to stop.  
  
"I just want to be alone, alright?" He snapped back, then turned around once more.  
  
"But you'll be down for Ron's party tonight, right?" She called hopefully. Mrs. Weasley was having a small "get-together" after the Order meeting in honor of Ron making captain.  
  
_Doubt it._ Harry thought. _But I do have to ask McGonagall about Divination...  
_  
"Yeah, whatever, I guess..." He said and left without waiting for a reply.  
  
Several hours later, he was woken by a large amount of water hitting him in the face. It was a water balloon, and Harry sat up to see Fred and George standing at the foot of his bed, armed with several more.  
  
"Mum told us to be 'gentle.'" Fred said with a grin.  
  
"Yeah, she sent us up here to wake you. The party's started." George stated. "But I can't tell you how long it's been since we used _these_." He said as he tossed a balloon up and caught it in his hand, causing it to burst.  
  
"Very mature of you." Harry replied, wiping water off his glasses with his shirt.  
  
"Yes, I'd like to think we grown past water balloons, but there's something primitively satisfying about them..." Fred said, almost wistfully.  
  
"Well, come on, we have to get rid of these and Mum will get worried if you don't come down. Mum's worried about _everything_ these days..." George said.  
  
"Yes, but especially about you." Fred said to Harry as they left the room. Harry could've sworn that there was a strange look in Fred's eyes, one he hadn't seen before. He looked serious. But the moment was fleeting as he burst another balloon on Harry's head, and Harry grinned for the first time in weeks.  
  
Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Lupin all looked very relieved to see Harry amongst the living once again, and not only that—smiling. Mrs. Weasley hugged him for no apparent reason and muttered in his ear "I'll have to make sure Fred and George come over more," then began filling a plate of food for him.  
  
Dinner was served buffet style, and most of the Order stayed after the meeting to eat and congratulate Ron, who was positively basking in the spotlight. A few minutes into the party, Harry spotted McGonagall standing next to the table.  
  
"Professor, could I—" He began.  
  
"Look, Mr. Potter, I'm sorry. I tried to make you captain, but Professor Dumbledore thought it best that I didn't. I really am sorry." She said apologetically.  
  
_So that's why... First Prefects, now this.  
_  
"Erm, that's not what I was going to ask you, but..."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, what was it then?" She said, setting her plate down.  
  
"I was wondering if there was a mistake in my Hogwarts letter, because I got a 'D' in Divination, but the book was on my supply list."  
  
"Oh, that." She said and scowled. "Professor Trelawney said she still wanted you in the class. Said you possessed the 'inner eye;'" She rolled her eyes. "Sybill doesn't believe in standardized testing."  
  
"Oh, okay..." Harry said, still confused. Professor Trelawney had given him a 'p' on every piece of homework he had ever turned in—until he started lying, that is—the only thing he saw in a crystal ball was his reflection, and he couldn't read tea leaves to save his life. How could even _she_ say that he possessed the 'inner eye?'  
  
"You'd better go enjoy the party before it's over." McGonagall said, giving him a look of genuine concern.  
  
People had been giving him that look a lot lately...

A/N sorry it took me so long to update. I had writer's block--which is why i didn't include much of Diagon Alley or any of Fred and George's shop. i tried to write it in, really, but it just never came out right. so, anyway, all in all, i think it was an okay chapter. and plus, there's actually something of some significance in this one!

until next time--which will hopefully come sooner than this one did--

liseli ;)


	5. Birthday Present

A/n Happy belated birthday to J.K.R., Harry Potter, and, last but most certainly not least, Neville Longbottom. Neville rocks. nods nods Birthday Present 

"I'm worried about him, Ron."

_And I had _just_ gotten to sleep..._

"Yeah, so is Mum." Ron replied.

"And Lupin and Professor McGonagall." Hermione added.

Harry heard Ron's bed creak twice as they both sat down upon it. From his position facing the wall, he could judge by the light coming through the window that it was late morning. _Why can't they just leave me be and let me sleep?_

"How long has he been acting like this?" Hermione asked, almost at a whisper.

"I dunno.... Since he got here, at least." Silence.

"It's not healthy." She said at long last.

"What do you mean?"

"Being alone all the time. Brooding, sleeping. It just _can't_ be good for him." She answered, a hint of plea in her voice, as if she were trying to convince herself as well as Ron. Silence again.

"I can hear you, you know." Harry said as he turned over. Even without his glasses he could see Hermione jump.

"Harry, I—" She began in apology, but Harry cut her off.

"Maybe I just want to sleep, okay?" He was trying to avoid the topic altogether, but he couldn't stand people talking behind his back all the time; it was just annoying.

He could tell by the look on Hermione's face that she didn't believe him. "You know... sleep late, like a... normal teenager. Normal.... Is that to much to ask?"

"No... I... It's just that, well, it's not healthy Harry." She said, looking at the ground. "I mean if you—"

"And HOW, exactly, would you know what's good for me?" Harry could feel his frustration rising. _Why does _everyone_ have to treat me like a _child?

"Well, I don't..." Hermione muttered, eyes still glued to the floor.

"We just want to help mate." Ron said quietly.

"Well, yeah? What, WHAT do you think would help me? What could you possibly do? Hmm?" He was standing now, his anger rising at an alarming rate. "If you could bring him back, then by all means, help away, please! But you can't, now can you? No-one can...." Hermione continued to look down and the tips of Ron's ears were red. "Yeah, that's what I thought. And don't even begin to _think_ you understand how I feel, because you don't and trying won't help. It's not like it's something you can learn from one of your precious books, Hermione." He added as an afterthought.

"We just want to help." Hermione said, daring to look up.

"Yeah, well the most you could do right now is just leave me ALONE!" Harry said and stomped off.

The next day he awoke in the late afternoon in Buckbeak's room. Harry stepped out of bed and nearly tripped over a small pile of boxes. He put on his glasses and saw that there was a large, hand-made card on top reading "Happy 16th Birthday, Harry!"

How could he have forgotten his own birthday?

The first package was rather lumpy and wrapped in brown paper; Harry didn't have to open it to know that it was one of Mrs. Weasley's sweaters.

Underneath the sweater was (yet another) book on the Chudley Cannons, which was obviously from Ron, especially seeing as it hadn't been wrapped. Harry almost chuckled. Almost...

The next present was in the shape of a small box, covered in shiny green wrapping paper. There was a card on top, reading: "Happy birthday! I hope this helps more than I did. Love, Hermione."

Harry opened it, revealing a wooden box with what looked like a small speaker on it. There was a piece of black glass set into the opposite side, and painted above it were the instructions: "Place a finger here." He did so, and the glass changed colors ever so slightly to a dark blue and the soft tinkling of a music box came from the speaker.

"The fellow who never makes a mistake takes orders from one who does." The box said in a sing-song voice.

Harry turned it over, confused. On the other side there was a carving. "The Mood-Reader: Inspirational Quotes Edition." It read. Harry was at a loss for what to think of this present.

The last present was rather flat and wrapped in silver paper, from Lupin. Inside was a picture of Sirius and Harry at Christmas, in front of the Christmas tree he had helped decorate. Sirius had managed to dangle a bunch of silver garland around Harry's neck, and the picture versions of the two were playing as if they were trying to choke one another, a grin on each of their faces.

Harry had forgotten about that...

His hands began to tremble, and he reached for the box that Hermione had given him, hoping like hell that it was useful; he really didn't feel like crying again.

"What the caterpillar calls the end is what the rest of the world calls a butterfly."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "How is _that_ supposed to help me?" he was just about to set it down, when it spat out another quote.

"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding."

_Yeah? My 'pain' isn't breaking anything. I understand what I'm supposed to do, I—_

"Out of difficulties grow miracles."

Harry made an exasperated face. "How the hell is a miracle supposed to grow out of al this?!" he asked the box, a little louder than he meant to.

"When a door closes, look for an open window, but it may take a while to feel the breeze."

"What the—"

"Of all the people you will meet in life, you are the only one you will never leave nor lose. To the question of your life, you are the only answer. To the problems of your life, you are the only solution."

"Yeah? Well what do you do when you're just a screw-up?!" Buckbeak looked up; Harry had begun to shout.

"You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it."

"But I only have one chance!" He yelled back to it, a desperate plea in his voice.

"In times like these, it is good to remember that there have always been times like these."

"But—"

"The most difficult matter is not so much to change the world but to change yourself."

"But I don't have to change the world; I have to save it!"

"If all people were to bring their miseries together in one place, most would be glad to take each their own home again—rather than take a portion of the common stock."

"I'd give _anything_ to trade with _anybody!_"

"There are no hopeless situations. There are only men who have grown hopeless about them."

"I thought you were supposed to make me feel better, not worse!"

"To dream of the person you would like to be is to waste who you are."

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP?!" He shouted and threw both the box and the picture—which he had been holding all this time—hard against the wall. The glass of the frame cracked and the box sputtered for a few moments before finally quieting. Harry fell back upon the bed, breathing heavily, then realized that he had been shouting at a box.

Moments later the door opened and Harry, expecting it to be someone coming to check on him, immediately shut his eyes. But whoever it was began to mutter inaudibly, and he was quite sure it wasn't Remus or a Weasley. Then his eyes snapped open. It was Kreacher...

The house-elf was rummaging about the room, talking to himself, oblivious to the face that there was another in the room.

"You..." Harry said under his breath. "You! You're the—you're the reason Sirius is gone! The reason he's dead!" His voice was steadily rising, and the house-elf simply turned around to glance at him then went back to digging in the top drawer of the bureau on the other side of the room. Harry got off the bed and his arm reached for something on the wall beside the window; his anger finally broke.

"Don't you _dare_ ignore me! You're the reason he's not here! YOU BETRAYED HIM!" He was practically breathing down Kreacher's neck, an evil—almost manic—glint in his eyes. "But, I'll be kinder to you! I'll give you your one wish! DON'T YOU IGNORE ME!"

Then, just as the elf turned around, Harry brought the sword—which he had almost unconsciously pulled from its fixture—down upon the house-elf's neck.

"There, now you can hang with your mother on the wall!" Harry laughed a hallow laugh, and Buckbeak moved toward the body, looking at it longingly.

"No boy, you don't want any of _that_ filth." Harry said and kicked the body under the dresser then scooped up the head. He brought it quietly down to the hallway where the rest of the elves were nailed upon the wall.

Suddenly, the realization of what he had just done dawned upon him. Quite sure that he would get in big trouble for this one, he dropped the house-elf's head unceremoniously to the ground and ran to his room, where he lay himself down on his bed, the blood drying on his hands.

..._He killed Sirius, that's why I did it... That's why; I was just paying him back. I gave him what he always wanted...more than what he deserved... he should've been tortured to death—felt real pain... I should've tortured him to death..._

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Cried a voice, breaking his reverie.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" McGonagall cried as she threw open the door. "WHAT ON EARTH HAVE YOU DONE?"

Harry turned over on his bed and looked down; there was no point in pretending to be asleep now.

"WHY IN MERLIN'S NAME WOULD YOU DO SUCH A HIDEOUS THING?!" McGonagall's nostrils were flaring more than he had ever seen them. "HMM?" She looked at him expectantly, and Harry could just see Hermione, Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, and several others were standing outside the door behind her.

"I—I—"

"Surely you must have a better answer than that!"

"HE KILLED HIM! HE'S THE REASON SIRIUS IS DEAD! HE'S THE REASON I NOW HAVE ABSOLUTELY _NO_ FAMILY! No-one to turn to..." He burst out, standing up now, looking his professor square in the eye. He had grown quite a bit over the summer.

McGonagall looked away. "I knew it wasn't a good idea to leave you alone like this all the time..." Her voice had softened considerably. "Come on." She turned him to the door, and everyone scattered back to their business.

"Huh?" Harry asked, wondering what she was going to make him do. Surely she couldn't assign detention during the summer...

"You heard me, come on. You're going to eat with everyone else tonight." She pushed him through the door and led him down the stairs. Harry grimaced.

A/N interesting chapter, I think, but it exhibits my least favorite bit of writing so far... oh, well. I'm really sorry about not updating sooner. This chappie was ready last Sunday, but one thing led to another, before I knew it, I was on vacation. Really sorry.

The picture from Lupin in this chapter was actually by "Fortune's Fool" by S. C. Hardy (which you should go read, now!) I just loved that bit so much, and I thought it fit in nicely here. So, many thanks to S. C.!

Also, FYI to some of my older readers, I took Mark Evans out of the story. I had felt obligated to put him in here before, but I never really knew what I was going to do with him besides sticking him in Hogwarts. And, now that J.K.R. has said he's a nobody, he has left the story waves goodbye

That's all for now.

Until my next update (or yours, depending on who you are ;D... no, I really do plan on getting around to review everyone who's reviewed for me. Just not today, I need to go to sleep... yawn),

Liseli


	6. A Remarkable Number of References to Eye...

A/N Very sorry about the lack of recent updates; school began, then I got the Sims 2, and just recently I've begun fencing, which is something I've wanted to do for ages. Honestly though, there's no excuse. But hey, good news! In all of the time's I've re-written, this is the farthest into the story I've gotten; the trio is going back to Hogwarts! That kind of says something about my level of commitment to , but anyway... 

At long, long last, on with the story!

A Remarkable Number of References to Eyes 

"Ginny, if you and Hermione don't get down here in the next three minutes—"

"We're hurrying, we're hurrying!" Ginny called down to her mother as she raced back up the stairs.

"Mum, have you seen my cloak?" Ron yelled from a few banisters up.

"No, I have not! What on earth would it be doing outside of your closet this time of year anyway?!"

"I dunno, but I can't find it!"

"Molly, we're leaving in 15 minutes." Said Mr. Weasley, who had just walked in upon the chaos.

"Okay, I—"

"Mum!" Ron called.

"Hold on!" She yelled. "Arthur," She said, turning back to her husband, "We—"

"Mum, I still can't find it!"

Mrs. Weasley put her hand to her forehead and cried, "I'm coming, I'm coming! But Ronald Bilius Weasley, you had better hope that it's not it in your closet…" And she stomped up the stairs after her youngest son.

Harry watched the rather amusing scene from his vantage point in the furthest corner of the room, well out of everyone's way.

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as if he was going to go upstairs and help pack, but a yell and a flying shoe seemed to aid in his decision against it. He stood there idly for a few moments, then turned around and was startled to see Harry sitting on his trunk in the corner.

"Oh, Harry! I didn't see you there."

_That was kind of the point… _

"Well…" He said as he sat down on the trunk with Harry. "At least you're packed."

"Uh-huh…." He said. There was a pause.

"Listen, Harry," Mr. Weasley began. "I know we didn't get to talk very much this summer, but I want you to know that Molly and I think of you as a," He seemed to pause to count for a moment before continuing. "seventh son."

Harry nodded. He really did appreciate the Weasleys' hospitality, but he had heard all of this before.

"So, you know, if you need anything, or just want to talk even, don't hesitate to send an owl."

"Okay…" He said without really moving his mouth.

"I know that we can never replace your parents or Sirius," He said the last word a little softer than the others, hoping not to upset the boy. "But just know that we're here for you, okay?"

"Okay." Harry said, not knowing exactly how to respond. The two of them sat there in silence for a moment, each staring to the ground, before the rest of the family (and Hermione) announced that they were ready, dragging the trunks down the stairs noisily.

Mr. Weasley shrank the trunks to fit in their owners' hands, and Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks (disguised as an old woman whom Harry thought resembled Aunt Marge a great deal), Mad-Eye, and Lupin set out for the Leakey Cauldron by foot, where they Flooed to Platform 9 3/4.

The foursome put their trunks on the luggage racks, where Mr. Weasley resized them. Mrs. Weasley hugged them each in turn twice, and Harry received much the same lecture from she and Lupin as he had from Mr. Weasley earlier. Finally, after waving goodbye to Tonks and Mad-Eye, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the train left the station, and they were on their way to Hogwarts. He was on his way home…

Hermione and Ron left the compartment to attend the prefect meeting at the front of the train, and Neville and Luna joined Harry and Ginny.

"Hey Harry, look at this." Neville said as he slid something out of his pocket. It was a new wand. "8 ½ inches, maple with unicorn hair. As it turns out, my grandmum was actually very pleased with my taking on Death Eaters at the end of last term. She said I might not be so unlike my dad after all…" He said—almost smugly—then proceeded to spend the next few minutes changing his toad, Trevor, different colors; something he was never able to do with his old wand.

Ginny soon left the compartment to find Dean Thomas and Harry considered striking up a conversation with Luna, but he was saved the trouble when she took out _The Quibbler_. Consequently, he spent the next hour alternating between watching the scenery and stopping Neville from accidentally cursing Trevor.

A little while later Hermione, Ron, and, much to their surprise (and obvious displeasure), Ernie MacMillan, entered the compartment. Neville immediately opened up his herbology book, Luna buried her nose so deep into _The Quibbler _that it was doubtful that she could see in such a position, and Ron challenged Harry to a game of chess. Only Hermione seemed to enjoy Ernie's presence in the compartment, and the two immediately struck up a conversation about his father and the upcoming election.

Aside from Ron's occasional glares at Ernie, the train ride went rather peacefully. In fact, Harry noticed as the train was slowing, for the first time ever, their trip to school did not include a visit from Malfoy.

"I guess his dad being in prison deflated his ego a bit over the summer. He didn't look quite so priggish at the prefect's meeting." Ron said when Harry mentioned this observation to him as they were changing into their school robes. Harry snorted in reply.

"I never thought I would hear of such a thing; Malfoy's ego, deflated."

"You know, between that, no O.W.L.s, and no Snape, this year might turn out to be half-way decent."

"Yeah, for you anyway. I've got _N.E.W.T._ potions this year."

"Oh, right mate, sorry."

Hogwarts. Oh, Good God, at long last, he was home. After a summer of ceaseless dwelling, it was good to be back somewhere where there was something to look forward to (namely, Quidditch).

He could see the little lights twinkling in the distances through the windows, and it sparked something inside of him; happiness? He hadn't felt happy for a lifetime, it seemed.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" Cried Hagrid familiarly over the crowd. The boats crossing the lake, the carriages, the thestrals—well, maybe there were still unhappy memories at Hogwarts. But, thank God, it appeared that some things did stay the same.

Some things; Harry noticed that now there were dozens of wizards dressed in dark blue robes with three red stars positioned throughout the crowd, conducting students to the carriages, and searching the baggage on the train.

"What's this all about?" Harry asked Hermione.

"They're officers from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, dad said that he heard something about 'increased security at Hogwarts' this year." Ron commented.

"Well, it seems as if they've kept their word."

"Last names beginning with the letters 'A' through 'E', line up here, please! Last names 'A' through 'E'!" Called a feminine voice over the crowd. The trio exchanged puzzled looks.

"'F' through 'J', this way! 'F' through 'J'!" Said another voice near the first.

"I'll see you at the feast then, I guess." Said Hermione, and then began making her way to the line.

Next, 'K' through 'O', and then, "'P' through 'T', over here! 'P' through 'T'!"

"See you later." Harry said to Ron then walked over to his line.

He could feel the eyes of all the 'P's through 'T's on him and hear their whispers as the line slowly inched forward. It was overbearing. At one point he stared one of the second years back in the eyes, and he nearly screeched with terror before facing the front again.

_Do they always have to do this?_ He thought to himself. _That's the one thing I hate about Hogwarts, all the eyes—well, that and Snape. _He chuckled slightly at the last thought, which happened to occur just as a Hufflepuff met him in the eyes, and this time, she really did scream.

"Potter, Harry." He said as he reached the front of the line.

"Ah, yes." Said the wizard as he lifted his eyes from the check-off list. "I know who you are. Well, there we go," he said as he made a mark next to Harry's name. "Go stand by Grambling over there. He's the one with the glasses; he'll show you where to go. But I must say, it was a pleasure to finally see you in person." He said in a voice that made it clear that he could hardly contain his excitement. Harry managed a nod then walked over to his group.

Grambling showed Harry, the Patil twins, and a few fourth year Ravenclaws over to a carriage. "Just have to make sure you all get to school safely." He said to Harry as he helped Padma onto the carriage and shut the door.

"What, do they think we're not capable of walking to the carriages?" Asked a redheaded Ravenclaw exasperatedly.

Harry put his forehead against the window. _It's for your own safety, idiot._

"Yeah, really, I mean it's not as if _he_ would come _here_." Said Parvati.

That omniscient 'he' again…

"I mean, as long as Dumbledore is here, _he_ wouldn't dare."

"Oh, come off it." Harry said, face still turned away from the other passengers. All the pairs of eyes that had been so carefully avoiding him since they boarded the carriage suddenly turned to him, waiting for further explanation. "Just say it already." They continued to stare at him incredulously. "It's really not that hard. Vol-de-mort." Harry exaggerated.

Either the carriage jolted or all six of the other passengers jumped off their seats at once. Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, bugger, why even bother…"

A/N: I really am sorry about how short this extremely overdue chapter is. No excuses, no excuses…

Also, I noticed as I read through some of the previous chapters how alienated and…mean I've made Harry. I have plans to amend that though. And if all else fails, I could always just re-edit and re-post all the chapters again. lol

Oh, and Happy Turkey Day to all you Americans!


	7. The Astute Headmaster

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter. I do not.

Claimer: two hangers of old Mardi Gras beads. JKR does not.

Here's one terrible chapter title:

**The Astute Headmaster**

The Great Hall was as brilliantly lit as ever and still watched overhead by the nighttime sky. There were no clouds in sight, and the stars were so bright that they were reflected by the empty gold plates, making the whole hall sparkle oddly. It was almost enough to put Harry to sleep. That is, until the light hum of chattering students grew into an outright roar.

After everyone 'A' through 'Z' was seated at their respective tables and the first years had lined up before the Staff Table, Professor McGonagall walked though the hall and placed the Sorting Hat on its three-legged stool. The noise quickly died down, and an opening appeared in the ancient hat's brim.

"The Sorting Hat I am

For those of you who know

My job is quite simple

For you I must make friends and foes.

"I will separate you into houses

Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin

There you will spend your time

And from the others you will be driven.

"In Gryffindor dwell the noble

The brave, the true of heart

To this house, the chivalrous

Never to fall apart.

"To Ravenclaw I send

The wise, the strong of mind

Ne'er a smarter witch or wizard was there

Who was not of the Ravenclaw bind

"For Hufflepuff, the loyal

The kind, the laborious

Always there to lend a helping hand

For their caring, the Hufflepuffs are notorious.

"Lastly, to Slytherin

The true-to-self, the conniving

The Slytherins know what they want

And continue striving

"But there is something I must add

About the Houses as a whole

Something of grievous importance

Even for this school, so old

"As I have said it many times past

—And I will say once more—

It is imperative

That the Three Allied become the Four.

"Hogwarts is threatened

By the Evils lurking without

If the Houses are not united

The Evils will spread throughout!

"This is the final warning

If the hatred is not aborted

This will be the last year

Hogwarts student are sorted!"

Professor McGonagall's scroll landed on the ground with a _thud_ that resounded throughout the momentarily silent hall.

Before long the entire schoolbegan talking wildly, abandoning the very idea of whispering. Harry exchanged worried glances with Ron and Hermione, then gazed up at the Staff Table to see Dumbledore looking more serious than most of his students had ever seen him.

McGonagall regained her composure and called the first name, "Aberdeen, Willoughby," at which the school was hushed once more, Dumbledore broke from his reverie, and the moment passed.

After all of the students were sorted, Dumbledore stood up to speak. "I am afraid that I must agree with the Sorting Hat's message. I am sure you are all quite aware of the new dangers outside the school, and the Hat is quite right in saying that if we do not unite, Lord Voldemort," at this there was an almost unanimous shiver, "_will_ find his way into Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has a way of spreading chaos and inspiring the worst in people. It would be wrong of me to try to shield you from the truth," he looked right into Harry's eyes, "so I will tell you honestly that the only way for us to make it through this is to work _together_. Therefore, if all of the houses—_all_ of them—" at this he looked pointedly at Slytherin then Gryffingdor "do not…get along, I am afraid to say that there will be no houses at Hogwarts next year." He paused then said with a great change in tone and expression, "But for now, we eat!" And all the glittering gold plates were immediately covered with the feast.

"D'you really think he would?" Neville asked as he leaned across the table, nearly getting hit by Ron with a spoon of mashed potatoes. "Take us out of our houses, I mean"

"I wouldn't doubt it…" Said Hermoine thoughtfully, who had yet to touch her own food.

"He didn't introduce a new Defense teacher…" Harry stated more than asked after a moment, still gazing up at the Staff table, scanning for new occupants.

"No, he didn't, did he?" Returned Hermione as she too turned her eyes to face the teacher's table.

"'Er'sth no-un new a'th' dable." Observed Ron through a mouth full of roast.

"Ron, don't talk with your mouth full." Hermione chided, giving him a disgusted look.

Ron made a big show of swallowing his food before saying, "Yes, mother." Hermione glared in return.

"Maybe whoever it is is just…late or something." Said Neville.

"But for the feast?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right…"

"Well, whoever it is, they _can't_ be worse than Umbridge." Said Ron between his cranberry sauce and his pumpkin juice, as if to bring an end to the matter.

"Don't say that." Said Ginny darkly, sliding in between Ron and Neville onto the rough wooden bench. "Or we will."

After the feast, the Trio made their way up the moving marble staircases and through the torch-lit corridors to the Gryffindor common room, only to find nearly all the Gryffindors packed together, standing outside.

"Whaddya suppose this is all about?" Ron murmured to Harry.

"I dunno…" Harry turned to ask Hermione her opinion, but she was already elbowing her way up through the crowd.

"Excuse me, excuse me. I'm a Prefect, excuse me." Hermione said as she pushed her way to the front. Harry and Ron were strongly reminded of Percy. "Pardon me, excuse me. Now, what _is _the problem here?" She asked when she met the two fifth-year Prefects responsible for letting everyone in.

"The—the password I-I-I..." Stammered a blonde-headed girl with freckles.

"Yes…?"

"We, I—Dumbledore said—I—but, but we can't—I—" She stammered again, apparently intimidated by the look on Hermione's face, which, Ron commented, was remarkably similar to that which Professor McGonagall often wore.

"Now don't be silly, just say it." Hermione persisted. The girl became silent. Hermione turned to the boy prefect standing next to her, who shook his head violently to imply that he could not utter the word either. "Come now, it can't be that difficult."

The blonde girl, who, after seeing how many people were watching her and waiting, suddenly seemed even more intimidated. She took a deep breath and beckoned for Hermione to come closer, then she whispered in her ear.

Something seemed to spark in Hermione's eyes. "Ohhh….I see. Well, I'll say it for you then, but just this once."

She turned to the Fat Lady's portrait, and said, loud and clear, "Lord Voldemort!"

The Fat Lady shuddered and yelped before she swung open to let the visibly rattled and shocked Gryffindors in.

"_That_ is brilliant." Murmured Harry to Hermione as they met up in the Common Room.

"Yeah, trust Dumbledore to come up with _that_." Ronspat and shook at the thought. "I guess the rest of us will have to carry all our books around all day now."

"_Or_, you can just learn to say Voldemort." Harry said under his breath as he flopped down onto one of the red, plushy couches in front of the blazing fireplace. Ron jumped.

"I heard that!"

"Oh, come on! It's not like it's going to hurt you." Hermione said as she crossed her arms and joined Harry. Ron remained standing defensively.

"Yeah, he will." He replied, giving her an incredulous look.

"No Ron, the name. He won't come just because you say his name. Think about it."

"Well I _think_ I'll just carry my books around, thank you."

"Where are you going to sleep then, _hmm_?"

"One of you will let me in." He answered and gestured with his hands to suggest that this was the obvious answer.

"No we won't, will we Harry?" Hermione turned to look at him.

"It's just a stupid name, Ron." Harry said quietly.

"Oh, fine!" Ron mumbled and stomped up to the dormitories

"He has to learn that _it won't cause him any harm._ Is that really so difficult?" Hermione sighed exasperatedly to herself.

Harry nodded and looked around the room. It seemed most of the occupants were thinking along much the same lines as Ron.

_It's just a stupid name…_

He stood up without saying goodnight to Hermione, as she seemed lost in her own thoughts, and made his way silently up the spiral staircase to his dormitory, whose door now read, "Sixth Years."

As the three entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, Ron laden down with all his books so as not to have to return to the Tower and say the password, Harry noticed that many other students—even those from other houses—had done the same. He commented on this to Hermione, who just shook her head.

"Let's see…Yes! We've got double Defense, first thing!" Exclaimed Ron, looking at his schedule, which was propped up against his pumpkin juice jug so he could read and eat at the same time. "Then…I arve 'n off perrid…" He said through a mouth full of egg.

"During which time we will be in Potions." Harry interjected.

"Haha, sorry mate." Laughed Ron somewhat half-heartedly. "Then, lunch, then Charms, and then I have another off period."

"When I'll be in Arithmancy." Hermione said from across the table as she began helping herself to some bacon from the platter in front of her.

"And I'll be in Divination."

"You're still in Divination?" She asked. He nodded nonchalantly in reply. "But I thought you failed."

"I did, but she put me back in the class anyway."

"Well, did you talk to Professor McGonagall?"

"Yeah, she said it's not a mistake…"

"Oh, well Harry, look at it as a free opportunity to sleep in class." Ron joked, earning a disapproving look from Hermione. ("Since when did you become my mother?!")

"Yeah, I will, if I can manage to sleep through her predicting me dying." He said rather unemotionally, then made a show of pretending to think for a moment and looked up at Ron. "Yeah, you're right; it shouldn't be that hard."

"Do you mean you really don't care about passing?" Hermione sighed, putting down her fork and looking him square in the eyes.

"No, I really don't." He replied firmly, returning the look.

"Whether you need the NEWT or not, failing a class doesn't look good on a job application anywhere." She said as she shook her head and picked up her fork again.

"If I live long enough to fill out a job application…" He muttered under his breath so that his two friends couldn't hear.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were one of the first students to arrive in Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and the trio took their seats beside each other. Harry surveyed the room as he took his things out of his bag. There was nothing particularly distinctive about the room—just desks, stone walls, and a blank chalkboard. It could have easily been any one of the numerous empty classrooms in Hogwarts. Until, that is, he noticed the stone basin and a small silver instrument sitting on the professor's desk, which could only mean one thing…

Just then, as to confirm his suspicions, the bell rang and the door opened to reveal a white-bearded man in long, blue robes. The class gasped.

"Good morning, class. I am Professor Dumbledore—although I believe most of you are already aware of that," he said, eyes twinkling as he glided across the room to his desk, "and, as I have been unable to find teacher for the past few years now, I have given up and decided that it is time that I taught you myself."

Hermione was positively squirming with delight.

"In light of the Wizarding World's current circumstances, this class will focus primarily on defending yourselves against Lord Voldemort," there was yet another unanimous shudder, "and his followers. So, I would like to begin by asking you a simple question: what should you do if you happen to meet a Death Eater?" He gazed around the room, a bemused smile playing on his face. Hermione's hand went up, and he nodded at her.

"Perform a Protego Charm?" She answered, for once a little unsure of herself.

"No, the answer is much more simple than that, I assure you, Miss Granger."

Ron mouthed quite unnecessarily to Harry, "She got a question wrong!" Harry snorted, then thought for a moment. He put up his hand tentatively, and Dumbledore called on him.

"Errr…run?" He asked more than answered, recalling last year's encounter in the Department of Mysteries. His face darkened at the thought. _Don't go back there…_ He thought as he closed his eyes longer than he would have if he were blinking.

Dumbledore noticed the change in expression and looked thoughtfully at the young wizard before wisely turning to face the rest of the class.

"Exactly. Your first and foremost concern should be getting _out_ of the situation. Would anyone care to demonstrate?" The class looked around confusedly.

"Demonstrate what?" Seamus blurted out.

"Ah, thank you Mr. Finnegan for volunteering." Seamus's mouth opened to retaliate but the headmaster continued before he had a chance. "And…Mr. Longbottom. If you two will kindly come forward?" The two walked, or rather Seamus walked, Neville tripped, up to the front of the room, where Dumbledore put them just out of reach of each other. "First, you never want to be within reaching distance of your attacker, lest they take hold of you." He said simply and held out Neville's arm to demonstrate that he couldn't touch Seamus. A t this, Hermione's hand immediately went up.

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"What about defensive spells? Death Eaters won't just _chase_ you."

"Yes, but seeing as most of the class did not realize that they should get out of the way, I thought it would be prudent to teach that first. We will begin defensive spells after Halloween." He replied courteously, sufficiently quieting Hermione.

"Now, keepingas far a distance as possible,you are to run. Neville, you are the attacker, Seamus, you are the defender." He instructed then looked at them expectantly.

Neville looked around bewilderedly, but then began to jog a little at a nod from Professor Dumbledore. That is, until he ran into Seamus. Ron, who was sitting in the desk beside Seamus, pushed him forward. Getting the hint, he began to jog slowly as well. The whole class did their best not to laugh as the pair ran in circles around the headmaster.

"Mr. Longbottom, would you pick up the pace a little please?" Dumbledore asked politely. "Mr. Finnegan, the most effective way for you to run and avoid spells would be to zig-zag from side to side and bob the upper half of your body, if you would be so kind as to demonstrate that as well for the class." He hinted with a twinkle in his eyes, and as Seamus did the class began to laugh outright. Neville turned red out of embarrassment and Seamus slowed to a stop and began laughting himself. Even Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

His lightened mood did not last though. Theperiod ended, and he made his slow descent to the Potions Dungeon with Hermione, head hanging increasingly lower with each step, and emerged from the class none the better.

The Divination room had changed little over the summer. The pink puffs were scattered around the tables, the scarves were draped over the lamps, and the perfumed fire was blazing. Even Trelawney looked as bug-eyed and batty as ever. Harry took his place in the back of the room by the window, settled in and opened the window a little. The bell rang and Trelawney began her lesson, though Harry noticed she was a little on-edge. She couldn't quite decide what to do with her hands and kept glancing at him through the corner of her eye. However, she never addressed him once—not even to predict his death. Thinking it was odd, but not particularly worried, he slowly drifted off into a warm sleep.

A/N: Sorry, I couldn't think of an ending. Also sorry, as usual, about the lack of updates. shakes head How was Dumbledore, in character or not? How about everyone else? Writing? Good? Bad? Blah?Tell me honestly s'il-vous-plait! Mardi Gras beads to all reviewers!


End file.
